


but what will we do when we're sober

by 4drinkamy



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Hangover, Kid Fic, Morning After, plotless fluff!!!!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 15:24:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17144267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4drinkamy/pseuds/4drinkamy
Summary: Hungover Jake and Amy learn that parenting is a job you cannot call in sick for.





	but what will we do when we're sober

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas kids!!!! hope you enjoy some kid fic xxx

 

“Ames,” Jake groans into his pillow, his sleep disturbed by the distant babbling coming from the baby monitor. “Your child is awake.”

Amy stirs, briefly wonders if she’s dead, and murmurs, “Mmf, she’s your child.”

“She came out of your vagina, not me,” he tries to reason, audaciously cocooning himself further in the warmth of the bed. Hungover Amy’s having none of it.

“Exactly. So go get her.” A gentle kick of his butt under the duvet earns her a dramatic yelp, followed by Jake muttering “Fine, I’m going, I’m going,” as he clambers out of their bedroom in only his boxers. (Stripping off their fancy clothes and collapsing into bed was about all they had managed upon arriving home from the precinct Christmas party the previous night, forcing them to admit that their respective drunkenness scales have been significantly recalibrated since having a kid.)

Amy smiles to herself for winning this one – any mention of her fifteen-hour labour and delivery of Maya usually does the trick, and she knows she’s lucky to have the best husband ever. Within seconds, the baby monitor on her bedside table lights up again and Jake talking to their two-year-old daughter quickly becomes the best soundtrack to any hangover she’s ever had.

_“Okay, okay, I’m here,”_ Jake announces, entering Maya’s nursery. When Amy was seven months’ pregnant they’d spent a weekend decorating it, and it’s still her favourite room in the entire apartment. _“Good morning, Miss Maya! Sleep well?”_  he asks with all the fake-enthusiasm he can muster. Amy’s impressed.

_“Daddy! Say mornin’ to Bunny!”_  Gifted to Maya by Charles on the day she was born, Bunny is her most prized possession and, like her normally very sober mother, Maya is no stranger to waking up in the mornings in an extraordinarily good mood. On literally any day other than today, this is a good thing.

_“Oh, good morning Bunny, so nice of you to wake up at 5am. Now, how ‘bout we change your diaper, Miss Stinkums?”_ And that confirms that Jake is truly Amy’s hero, her knight in shining armour this morning, as the mere mention of a dirty diaper makes her stomach lurch. She takes deep breaths to steady the wave of nausea and curses herself for being such a terrible mom today.

Minutes later, their daughter is clinging to Jake’s front with her arms wrapped round his neck, monkey-stylez, when Jake dramatically knocks at the door of their bedroom. “I have a very special delivery of one Maya Peralta…”

The sheer cuteness of the scene before her just about drowns out the beating drums of Amy’s headache.  _Just_  - she grimaces slightly as she hoists herself on her elbows, “That’ll be for me then.”

 “Mommy!” Maya’s grip around Jake loosens, forcing him to lower her down so that she can run to the side of the bed. It’s still a few inches too high for her to climb up on and Amy laughs at the determination on her little girl’s face as she scoops her butt up and lifts her on to the comforter.

 “Hi, sweet girl,” Amy kisses Maya’s cheek, counting her blessings that her very opinionated toddler still loves physical affection - she hopes that never changes.

 Said toddler, however, seems to have absolutely no sympathy for her parents clearly looking and feeling worse for wear as she parks herself on Amy’s stomach and excitedly chants “iPad, iPad!” without a moment’s hesitation.

 “Shh, volume, Maya,” Jake chides softly, rubbing his tired face with the palm of his hand. His eyes are bloodshot, and his curls are sticking up in all directions and he still looks so stupidly cute that Amy kind of wants to kiss him. That is, if her mouth didn’t taste like sandpaper and her head wasn’t spinning faster than the speed of light.

 Amy and Jake look at each other with equal amounts of defeat, a silent agreement between them that surely a little screen time first thing in the morning never hurt any kid’s developing brain, scientific literature be damned. Those scientists definitely don’t know what a few glasses of wine (and maybe some tequila) will do to parents of toddlers who don’t get out much.

 “And what do we say?” Amy prompts their daughter encouragingly.

 “Pleeease!”

Maya’s well-practiced puppy dog eyes and toothy grin are hard to resist at the best of times, let alone when they’d both rather she was happily distracted and entertained for, ideally, the next ten hours. Jake shakes his head with a laugh turns on his feet, “Okay, Daddy’s going to pee and maybe throw up, and then get the iPad, Maya-Moo.”

“Is Daddy going to bring Mommy coffee and aspirin as well?” Amy asks as she sits up against the headboard properly and reaches for her glasses.

“In sickness and in health, m’lady,” he calls before adding, “You look great, babe.”

Amy can hear the smile in his voice, but she can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or sweet, so she rolls her eyes behind his back for good measure.  

“Hey, baby,” she bundles Maya in her arms in an attempt to both settle her manic 5am energy and harness the healing power of toddler snuggles. “Did you have fun with Nana last night?”

“Mhmm,” Maya nods enthusiastically against her chest, her bedhead curls tickling Amy’s chin. “We had a tea party with Bunny and Anna and Elsa! And I did painting!”

 “Oh wow, that sounds so exciting,” Amy smiles a tired smile, the fleeting thought of wishing they’d asked Karen to stay the night lost when Maya sticks her thumb in her mouth and her other hand comfortingly finds its way down Amy’s t-shirt. It really is far too early in the morning for this amount of cuteness. “Hey, how about we play a game until Daddy gets back called ‘who can pretend to be asleep the longest?’”

 Maya giggles – inheriting her parents’ competitiveness, she’s a fan of any game that doubles as a prank on her dad – and snuggles further against Amy, making a show of fake snoring. It’s a game that kills all of three minutes before Maya, with the attention span of a fly, shrieks as Jake re-enters the room carrying a mug of steaming hot coffee, a packet of tablets, and the iPad under his arm. He places the mug on Amy’s nightstand before climbing back into his side of the bed, groaning as his body hits the comfortable mattress and pulling the covers over himself again.

 Their daughter, having wriggled out of Amy’s grasp without much resistance, lounges against her mother’s body on top of the comforter, completely entranced by the glowing iPad screen. Jake’s hand finds Amy’s under the covers as she lets out a sigh of relief and twirls his wedding ring.

“Thank you for getting her up, babe,” Amy whispers to her husband as they both watch Maya intently drawing on the screen with her little fingers. She could be the next Picasso. “I’ll thank you properly later.” She does her best attempt at a wink, and Jake lets out a chuckle at her supposed flirting (it was a lot more enthusiastic, if a little more uncoordinated, last night).

“Just taking one for the team, Ames. How shi-, er, _shirt_ , are you feeling?” he whispers back at her.

“Oh, never fresher,” Amy lies back against her pillow, staring at the ceiling with a grimace. “Kidding. I’m so going to kill Rosa for letting me drink that much. You?”

“Like I could sleep for a thousand years and never get up.”

“Mmf,” Amy agrees half-heartedly. Once upon a time, updating her family’s weekly calendar only two days earlier, she had had ambitious plans to take them Christmas shopping and maybe even the park if the weather was good on their first shared day off of the week. She now realises she was being utterly over-optimistic and, as she lets her eyelids flutter close, she’s just grateful that their daughter is happily giggling at the iPad screen instead of throwing a tantrum like the tiny dictator she usually is. With Jake gently snoring again, it’s almost like any other lazy Sunday in the Peralta household, and it’s almost peaceful being surrounded by her two favourite people on the planet and -

_Baby shark doo doo doo doo doo doo_.

It’s going to be a long day.

 

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are what baby jesus would have wanted :)))


End file.
